The art of gift-giving
by SwordStitcher
Summary: It's Christmas. Even for the people of Arkham City. Switch considers the art of gift giving with three totally different inmates to gift. What do you buy an egocentric genius, a psychotic clown and a political prisoner?
1. Enigma

A/N: Merry Christmas! Ho ho ho! Festivities abound! Gift giving is difficult, you'll understand why in a minute, but on a more personal note, I'm wishing Bat-teen28 and scribblescribblescribble a very merry Christmas and a big thank you for letting me torture- I mean, use your characters!

Three different people, three different presents. How does one find the perfect gift for a certifiable inmate of Arkham City? First up we have Edward Nigma!

* * *

If you asked any thug on the street what he wanted for Christmas besides a rather funny tale of Kringle murder, they'd tell you all they wanted was to get out of this god-forsaken city.

Joker, like a true psychopath, had dressed all the corpses around his estate in elf costumes and was, himself, in the obligatory Santa outfit. No-one had any idea where he'd gotten Harley's outfit but if you didn't want to offend you kept your eyes on the floor.

As far as Switch was aware, Joker was the only one who celebrated the holiday to it's full cheap and tacky glory. Every other Rogue just acted like it was nothing special.

Some of the thugs might have gotten into the spirit of singing carols, though the only one they knew was the one Joker just loved to sing around this time of year. It was almost as infamous as the man himself.

Some of them were singing it outside the hideout at the top of their voice.

'_Jingle bells Batman smells, Robin laid an egg, the Batmobile lost it's wheels and Joker got awaaaay!'_

She paused as she tinkered with a bomb collar to listen to the terribly off key, not entirely chorused carol.

Outside, the snow was coming down even thicker than usual.

Of course it was Christmas Eve and if she were in the Asylum, she'd at least get some hot chocolate, maybe get press-ganged into watching it's a wonderful life, and contemplate committing suicide to get out of it.

She preferred the Muppets Christmas Carol if she were honest.

Then there were the presents. What does a criminal on the inside get for Christmas? Rubbish usually, the occasional vial of blood or death threat written in it.

Thy always burned the damn turkey.

Depending on your point of view, it could be said the holidays were worse in Arkham City.

Penguin did some Christmas charity and set a few political prisoners on fire, Dent let that loony Calendar Man loose for a night otherwise he was insufferable and Ivy hid her bloody evil plants everywhere, ready to ambush the unwary, though in deference to the holidays, it was generally holly or mistletoe.

Contrary to every law of humanity in existence, the rate of deaths actually climbed dramatically during the holidays in Arkham City.

Switch was still thinking on her present to Nigma. Of course as far as she was aware, he hadn't even bothered to think of a present for her.

But what do you get for a man who claims to have stolen everything worth stealing and fenced everything worth fencing?

Indulge his frankly bonkers dress sense of course; Switch had slaved over it for almost a month. It had been years since she'd used the skills her schoolteachers had assured her she'd need one day. Who knew that one day would be in a massive, entirely unorganised super prison in the run up to Christmas?

Switch had been working on this for some time, she'd poured too much effort into this gift and he wasn't going to appreciate the time she'd took to make it perfect, she knew. Oh well, short of kidnapping Steven Fry for him, this was the best she could do.

She wondered if he'd found it yet. She'd left it in the monitor room as it was bound to be the first place he'd head for upon his return from whatever errand he was on.

It was fast approaching midnight and she listened to the booming voice of Strange over the city once again announcing food drops would only be made at set times during the day and at set locations.

That was why so many people starved in this place.

She slumped against the table and rested. Against all common sense it felt comfortable.

She didn't even remember falling asleep, but when she woke, she found a box obscuring her view. Each crease and twist of the green paper had been folded delicately and the vivid plum ribbon was corkscrewed just right.

Her mouth tasted like warm-over garbage and she had a crick in her neck from sleeping face-down on the table. Her vision swam and danced as she struggled to wake up enough to view what was written. As far as she could tell, it was just a giant green question mark.

_Had Riddler got her a present?_

Edward Nigma? Christmas presents?

Suspicious, she checked ever so delicately for traces of a bomb, but it seemed an ordinary box.

As she woke a little more she heard humming and the whistle of the kettle. Just in view, Riddler was preparing a cup of hot chocolate.

He was wearing a garishly green jumper covered in little knitted question marks.

It fit him perfectly.

A small smile came on to her face as she picked up the present and her cup.

Maybe he didn't hate it that much after all.

'Merry Christmas boss!' She hummed as he busied himself with sugar and milk.

'Don't call me that.' Nigma muttered as he poured steaming water into his cup.

At least he didn't have the cane so she avoided a whack to the head.

She pulled the knife she kept in her boot and slit the ribbon easily. She made an incision in the wrapping paper and slid the box out, still not entirely sure this wasn't a bomb.

As gently as possible, just in case the trigger was attached to the lid, she eased the knife into the crack and propped it. Seeing no wires, she flicked it off and set the knife aside.

Inside was a DVD.

'Hah.' A broad grin spread on her face as she reached in to pull it out. 'How did you know?'

'A little chaos agent told me.' He replied.

She examined it carefully; her eyes roamed the colourful sleeve and the familiar figures.

'The Muppets Christmas Carol. I haven't seen this since…' Her voice petered out but the thought continued to roll around her head.

_I haven't seen this since the Clayface incident. That was three or four years ago now._

_Has it been that long?_

A small smile still made it's way onto her face. She used to watch this with her parents on Christmas Eve, without fail. Popcorn and hot chocolate all round. Fresh out of a scalding bath, red as a lobster in her new pyjamas. Without thought she wandered towards the warehouse doors. 'Thank Neon for me.'

'And where are you going?' Nigma drawled.

'I'm going to get some popcorn and some hot chocolate. You can't watch a movie like this without either.' Switch skipped out of the room. ' 'Tis the season and all that.' She laughed.


	2. Jester

A/N: Second up is Jester! Jester belongs to Bat-teen28 and I have her express permission to make Jesters dreams come true! Merry Christmas Batty!

* * *

'No. No. Horrible. Hate it. NO!' Papers fluttered to the floor as Switch sat back and ran her hands down her face. It was bad enough finding something for Nigma, Jester was a complete mystery.

What do you buy a psychotic clown? Ammo? No, that's too generic. It's like buying sane people bath bombs.

A new toy? Fuck, Joker's probably buried her under rocket launchers or something.

_ARGH._ Why was gift giving so _hard_?!

Maybe she could get away with money? Nah. It was useless to her.

What did she want? Above all?

Her phone trilled lightly somewhere in the mess of papers to the tune of the Macarena. Switch hurriedly shuffled failed ideas and torn plans until she located the slim device and flipped it open.

**_Neon: Yo, be careful tonight. Robin's been skulkin around the Bowery._**

_How the hell did she find these things out before me?_ Switch wondered, aghast. _I work for the freakin' Riddler. Nigma loves information and she still finds these things out faster. _

Then again, Jester had a vested interest in knowing of Robins' whereabouts. She tried to hide it but everyone knew she had the biggest crush…

An idea struck her that was so brilliant, so astounding, it would blow Jester out of the water and show the little clown just how much Switch liked her, despite her protests otherwise.

A devilish smile curled up her lip.

_Oh this was going to be fun. _

'Now, I want you to keep your eyes closed.' Switch laughed as she held Jester's hand and guided her into the pokey little room she'd set up just for this occasion.

Jester paused when she heard grunting and straining but Switch hurried her into the centre of the room.

'Alright, you ready?'

'Uh…For what exactly Smart Mouth?' Was it her, or did Jester sound nervous? Switch had to grin inwardly. She wondered what Jester thought was going on. Judging by her reactions she was wary of what Switch had brought her into. Typical trust issues. It was going to make her reaction that much better.

Switch pulled the girl to a stop and brushed the snow from her shoulders. 'I'll be right back.' She assured her and brushed past.

She darted to one side and flicked a light switch. The room lit up in green red and blue. Jester must have seen the lights through her blindfold. 'What've ya gone an' done Switch?'

'See for yourself.'

Jester removed the blindfold hurriedly and burst out into laughter. The room was gaily decorated in Christmas lights and streamers; Switch had taken several cans of spray-paint to the walls and decorated them with mistletoe and little stickman Santa's but that wasn't the focus of attention. Switch had wrapped lights around the figure tied to the chair. She'd also stuck the biggest, brightest bow she could find to the middle of his forehead. A label fell down, in front of his face, all but obscuring the furious look and the gag that held him from screaming at the top of his lungs like he had done in the first hour of abduction.

'Do you like your gift?'

'A Robin. How festive.'

Switch walked around the display that had taken her most of the day to set up and hugged the closest thing she had to a best friend in this insane underworld. As they embraced, she noted that boy blunder had finally realised why he'd been kidnapped in the first place and his expression was one of pure horror.

It only served as the icing on the cake.

'Merry Christmas Neon.' She laughed.

'Merry Christmas, Switch.' The reply came from somewhere around her midriff.

'Try not to wreck him though…You know how touchy the Bat is when you clip their wings.'

'No promises sweetie.' The dangerous tone in her voice caused an almost inaudible whimper from the direction of Jester's 'Present'.

Switch laughed as they let go and headed for the door. 'Of course. Enjoy!'

Robin thrashed and yelled as Switch took one last look back and shut the door with a devilish grin.


	3. Ruth

A/N: Lastly, we have Ruth Miller, who belongs to scribblescribblescribble, I hope it's looking good! Merry Christmas!

* * *

Christmas. Presents. Gifts. Normal people had trouble with the holidays as it was but for certain people, it was a lot more difficult.

What do you get a genius narcissist psychopath who claims to have laid hands on virtually everything worth stealing? Or a demented teenage clown with a fondness for artillery? Switch had some idea, which helped immensely since she knew what the both of them liked and disliked but a new friend…A new friend is a little trickier.

Switch window shopped. She stared at boxes upon boxes of soaps and perfumes, garments way too thin for this kind of weather and useless gadgets that would surely break down before _next _Christmas.

Snow danced down the glass panes and melted in the fog of Switch's breath against the window. On display were the most luxurious and expensive sweets she'd ever seen.

_Does Ruth even like chocolate?_

Something further down the street caught her attention.

_**SALE: One day only! African Grey Parrots! Ready to leave the nest! Only $330!**_

_Only?_ Switch snorted.

She approached the new shop, somewhat intrigued by the sign. People were crowding around the window, coo-ing and aah-ing at the birds.

_Birds? Rats with wings is more like it. _Switch thought disgustedly. She noticed the crowd all but thin out as the parrots disappeared fast.

It was the Harry Potter craze, she was sure of it. Owls hardly made ideal pets and trying to tie a message to an owl like in the Potter books would immediately render the owner's finger mangled.

So parents bought their kids a parrot instead, never thinking of the mess they make or the insane noises they pick up and the similar tendency to strip the flesh of a finger.

_Those beaks are vicious. _

_Hadn't Ruth once said she liked birds?_

That had been in the middle of a conversation some time earlier. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when, they had frequent conversations on a lot of subjects. It was nice to have someone professing to be sane to talk to instead of Jester or Maxie Zeus who only ever talked about Greek mythology or Batman these days.

As the crowd thinned out, Switch got a better look at the cage. There were four parrots left, squawking and whistling on a perch but one lone bird was on the floor of the cage, shuffling through the shit.

As it approached the centre, where the bar was, two of the birds chased it away.

The little rat was smaller than it's friends, it stood no chance. The thing was small and scruffy, it was also out of proportion to it's cage-mates. An underdog if there ever was one.

As she watched, the poor thing wandered into a corner of the cage and was suddenly set upon by two of the birds on the perch.

A litany of pain-filled screeches rang out, hardly muffled by the glass.

_Way of the world little buddy._

But- No. It was fighting back. It was seeing them off. First one, and then the other.

_A scrapper, eh? We all know what happens to one of those. _

Sure enough, the two aggressors returned, even more furious, with the other two birds. Now all four of them were set on the plucky little sod.

The screeching and wailing was interrupted by a broomstick to the top of the cage. The metal boomed, the birds flew apart and Switch jumped in alarm.

It took her a second to come to a decision.

She pushed into the pet shop.

'Merry friggin Christmas.' The cage had been hell to lug onto the helicopter and the bird _had not_ liked the flight. She'd also been accosted by several idiot thugs over what was under the cloth she'd draped over the bars to make the thing sleep.

All in all, it had been a bit of a hassle.

To say Ruth was surprised by the cage that had gently nudged her plate of sandwiches across the table and crashing onto the floor was an understatement.

'What?'

'Christmas.' Switch repeated slowly and sarcastically. 'You know, the yule festival that became-'

'Yes, I know that but…I didn't think I…I don't have a gift for you.' Ruth admitted.

'I didn't get him just for you to feel obligated.' Switch answered.

'Him?'

The ghost of a smile twitched onto her lips but she said nothing. Ruth picked up the cloth gently and eased it back.

The pathetic little bundle squawked.

Switch heard Ruth give a little gasp.

With nothing forthcoming, she decided to break the silence. 'He's an African grey parrot. The runt of the hatchlings but scrappy like you wouldn't believe. I bought food and shit, so you don't have to.'

'He's…Beautiful.' Ruth smiled.

'Yeah, cute. So, what are you going to call him?' Switch's grin was smug.

'Are you sure you want to give him to me Switch?' Ruth looked up from the cage, a look of concern on her features. Obviously she must have known how much Switch had paid for it, but it was a drop in the ocean of cash for Switch. It was hardly the most expensive thing she'd ever bought.

'Incredibly sure.' Switch answered. _I'm not keeping the damn thing._ _Nigma would murder me and the parrot._

'I'm going to call him…Irving.' Ruth laughed and ran a finger up and down the downey feathers of the tiny thing. It seemed most happy at the contact. 'Thank you.' She whispered after a while.

Switch snorted. 'Merry Christmas, you mean.'

'That too.'


End file.
